A Picture's Worth a Shot in the Head, Apparently
by Sparky Dorian
Summary: Shawn and Gus get called in to investigate an apparent suicide that may be more than it seems. When they end up on a stake-out with Juliet and Lassiter, things start to fall apart quickly, and someone could get hurt. Light Shawn/Juliet. T to be safe.
1. Jewelry Inspection

_2008_

Gus let out an angry sigh. "Okay, this officially sucks! They took my regular cell phone _and _my work phone. Now I'll have to explain it to my boss. He's gonna be mad. And this rope is giving me a rash!" Juliet was barely listening.

"Where did they take Shawn? Do you think he's okay?" Her voice was tired and worried. She bent her head to wipe her cheek gently on her shoulder, wincing at the smear of blood it left.

"I don't know," Gus said more quietly, forgetting for the moment about the rash. "Don't worry, Jules. Shawn's resourceful. He'll be okay."

"I hope so." The image of the black-clad henchmen with large fists and loaded guns flashed into her mind. "Detective Lassiter better figure out where we are fast."

_1987_

"What the heck do you think you're doing, Shawn?" Henry demanded as he came through the door. He'd had a long day at work, and coming in to find his son on the floor with Madeline's jewelry spread around him wasn't helping.

"I'm checking to make sure none of this is forged," Shawn answered seriously. He was examining a diamond necklace through a toilet paper tube with plastic wrap taped over the top.

"And _where _did you get that idea?"

"Mrs. Calloway told us a story today about a jewelry thief who would leave behind fakes so that no one figured it out." Shawn pouted as his dad started scooping the jewelry back into its case. "I just wanted to make sure."

"I'm sure you did," Henry said exasperatedly. "Now help me clean this up and go do your homework."

"Fine," Shawn said, rolling his eyes and helping to clean up the tragically un-inspected jewelry. "Don't blame me if you find out that some of this is fake."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't."

***

A/N: I know it's short, but it is just the set-up for the actual story. Chapter one will be up no later than Thursday. Friday if I can't finish my science project quickly. I hope you like it so far. :) Please review!

Sparky


	2. Smoothies and Crime Scenes

_Chapter One_

I pulled a file from my desk drawer and opened it, scanning the words inside. I started making a note with a pen when a loud, familiar voice came from the entrance.

"Lassie, my man! You're looking awfully sharp today. Is that a new hair cut?" Shawn Spencer had entered the building.

"Shut up, Spencer," Lassiter said. "We have a case that, unfortunately, needs your psychic 'talents'."

"Oh, isn't that sweet, Gus? Lassie needs us!" He let out a sigh. "We already knew that, though, Lassie. We got a call from the Chief." I put away my file and walked over to Shawn, Gus, and Lassiter, trying not to smile at the psychic's antics.

"Hey, Jules!" Shawn said brightly.

"Hi, Shawn. What case?" I asked Lassiter. I hadn't heard anything about a new case. He let out an impatient sigh.

"The Chief wants to tell us all together. So, if we could possibly go into her office now?" With no more remarks from Shawn, we made it into Chief Vick's office and sat down.

"Thank you all for coming so quickly," she said. She looked kind of tired. "Last night a girl was found dead in her apartment. Alison Sharp, age 24. All signs pointed to suicide. Her fingerprints on the gun, no sign of a struggle."

"Then why are we here?" Shawn asked. Vick gave him a look.

"I was getting to that, Mr. Spencer. Her boyfriend, Hayden Carver, says she would never do that. He claims she was perfectly happy. He has a friend high up in the department, so you've been politely asked to go take a look. I thought Mr. Spencer might be helpful in reading her apartment for any possible clues." Shawn nodded.

"You got it, Chief," he said with a grin. Gus smiled in a forced way and nodded once.

"Excuse us a moment." He grabbed Shawn's arm and yanked him up out of his chair. They whispered in that strange, quick back and forth way of theirs for a second, then Shawn turned around with his hands raised slightly. "Unfortunately, we're a bit short on time today, so we're going to have to be quick. So... Let's go." Chief Vick gave us the address.

Lassiter and I took one his car, and Shawn and Gus took Gus's "company car". Lassiter and I arrived at the apartment building, but there was no sign of Shawn, Gus, or the Echo. Lassiter scowled as they pulled up about eight minutes later.

"Where've you two clowns been?" He demanded. Shawn held up a yellow smoothie and Gus held up a red one.

"We drove past Bob's Burger Palace and there was a sign that said they had a new cherry smoothie. Gus is a sucker for cherry." Gus nodded in agreement. "I obviously got pineapple."

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you guys were short on time!"

"Silly Jules," Shawn said with a shake of his head, sipping his smoothie before continuing. "There's always time for smoothies. Plus we got a complimentary Bob's Burger Palace napkin holder. I can add it to my collection." We started walking into the building and up the stairs.

"You have a collection of _napkin holders_?" Lassiter asked.

"I do now." As we neared Alison Short's apartment, it became apparent that something had, indeed, happened here. The area around the apartment was fenced off with caution tape, and a forensics guy was leaving. Shawn tossed his empty cup into a trash can in the corner and ducked under the tape.

"Whoa," he said. "That isn't pretty." The rest of us followed him into the room. I winced as I saw the chalk outline with blood around it.

"Ugh." Gus looked from his smoothie to the blood and back, then hurriedly ducked back out. Apparently his normal dislike of dead bodies wasn't helped by the whole 'red' thing. "I'm gonna wait out here for a minute." Shawn grimaced and took a step closer, looking the body over. The gun she'd used was still laying next to her. He stood up straight again and glanced around. Suddenly his shoulders tightened and his hands went to the sides of his head in his typical psychic pose and closed his eyes.

"I'm sensing that someone broke into her apartment recently," he said after a moment. Lassiter walked over to the door and examined it.

"Yes, this looks like a forced entry. The boyfriend didn't break in?" He asked me. I'd read the brief file on the way over.

"No, he had a key and used it."

"Hmm."

"Are you guys with the SBPD? You're here to help?" A man came in from under the caution tape.

"Yes, we are," Lassiter replied. "I assume you're Hayden Carver." The man nodded.

"That's me." He rubbed his head as if it hurt, then looked at Shawn with a raised eyebrow. "You don't look like you're with the police."

"No, Mr. Carver, I am not. My name is Shawn Spencer. I am the head Psychic for the SBPD." Hayden let out a derisive snort.

"Yeah, sure. Psychic," he said, shaking his head. "I never bought into that whole scam."

"Weight loss pills are a scam. That phone service with the annoying commercials... definitely a scam. But being psychic?" Shawn raised his eyebrows significantly. "Not a scam. It's a gift." Carver rolled his eyes.

"If you say so." He leaned against the wall, watching. "If you think it'll help find out who killed Alison, by all means."

"Are you getting anything else, Shawn?" I asked. He had his eyes closed again.

"Unfortunately, the spirits are feeling a bit _offended_. They're not being very forthcoming." That made me kind of nervous. Other than the evidence of a break-in, we had nothing to suggest that this wasn't simply suicide. If Shawn couldn't divine anything, we could end up stuck.

"Can you try _talking_ to the spirits?" I asked. "Maybe persuade them to help anyway?" Shawn let out an explosive sigh.

"I'll try." He closed his eyes again and raised one eyebrow, putting a finger to his temple. "He didn't mean it. No, no, he didn't. Well, even if he did, you could still help? Show him he's wrong? Okay. Yep. No. Yes, I'll tell them. Thank you, spirits." He opened his eyes with a smile back on his face. "They said they'll help. First they want you to know that they're tired of being unappreciated." Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"I'll organize a 'spirit appreciation part," I said quickly. "Now can we _please _get on with it?"

"Certainly. But would there be party hats and funyuns? And maybe little crystal balls for party favors-"

"Shawn! I really don't think this is the time for party planning!" I interrupted him. He snapped his mouth shut and nodded sagely.

"You're right, Jules." He let his gaze flit around the apartment for a moment. His hands suddenly sprang out in front of him and appeared to drag him towards her desk. Just as he reached it he reversed direction and ended up standing over Alison's purse. Arms dropping to his sides again, he let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Check her camera. Somebody was messing with it." The camera was hanging slightly out of the bag, and I picked it up with latex gloves on.

"The memory card's gone," I said to Lassiter. "And it's all bent up- the lens is scratched."

"Maybe she just didn't take good care of her camera!" Lassiter protested. Mr. Carver spoke up.

"No. Alison... Alison took great care of her equipment. She was a photography student. She wouldn't have done that to her camera."

"Well, maybe whoever broke into her apartment was trying to take a picture," Shawn suggested. He shuddered suddenly. "Oh! Psychic vibrations are coming to me- from the computer." I walked over. The only thing open on the desktop was an application that downloaded pictures. There were two of a dim flower garden and seven or so of a cluster of buildings and a gorgeous pink and orange sunset. A small blue chip was connected by a cord to the USB port.

"Looks like the memory card is plugged in over here," I said. Shawn nodded.

"Someone wanted whatever's on that memory card," he said. "Check the trash." I went over to the garbage can. Shawn shook his head. "No, no. The trash on the computer." I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, Shawn." I clicked on the little trash can in the corner. The only thing in the trash were half a dozen photos of the same sunset and buildings. "Okay, looks like we've got something." I enlarged the photographs. Lassiter and Shawn walked over and Shawn peered over my shoulder.

"Looks like that place over by the old Taco Bell. See, there's a street sign. 32nd street," he said.

"Spencer, 32nd street is over by all the warehouses," Lassiter corrected him.

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn shook his head. "When did they put the time of death?" I thought back to the quickly compiled file they'd given me.

"12:30 am, I think. Why?"

"Well, the spirits are telling me that these photos were deleted around one. They know this because they sensed that the guy next door who works a graveyard shift getting up." Lassiter leaned over me and looked at the trash window.

"Apparently the spirits were right. These were deleted a little after one." He stood up straight again and nodded. "I smell something very fishy around here."

****

A/N: It's finally here! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm not sure if I'm doing Gus or Lassie right… Or any of them, for that matter. Feedback? Thanks for the favorites! Chapter two should be up this weekend!


	3. Can You Spot the Difference?

A/N: I do not own Psych, FedEx, Stevie Wonder, the iPhone, iTunes, or Easy-Bake ovens. Sorry this took so long! My RL beta was very busy this week.

_Chapter Two- Can You Spot the Difference?_

A few minutes later, we'd coaxed Gus back in so that he could help us figure out what was different between the photos. Why those few had been deleted. He was sitting in the desk chair, carefully not looking at the blood on the floor behind him.

"Well, it looks like she was trying to get a picture of that sunset," he said after a moment of looking.

"Probably," Carver agreed softly from where he was leaning against the wall still. "She was always trying to get the perfect sunset on camera." His voice sounded forced and pained. I felt really awful for him. How would it feel, to walk into a room expecting to find your girlfriend smiling at you, and instead finding her dead? I suppressed a shudder. I didn't have a boyfriend, but that would be horrible.

"Looks like in all these pictures there's a warehouse," Gus said, looking at the screen. "But some of the ones that didn't get deleted had that, too, so that can't be it..." Shawn closed his eyes.

"I'm getting something here... I'm seeing a truck, and a guy who wears shorts even when it's below freezing-"

"FedEx!" Lassiter said. I gave him a weird look. He normally didn't respond to Shawn's random divinings.

"What?" He asked defensively. "Those guys always wear shorts."

"There's a corner of a FedEx truck and guy in some of the pictures," Gus said after a pause. "But they're in the ones that weren't deleted as well as the ones in the trash." Shawn stretched and leaned over Gus.

"Well, he had to be delivering something to someone. Is there anyone else in any of them?" The psychic asked. Gus squinted at the screen.

"I think I found it!" He declared, pointing with a latex-gloved finger. "The one thing that's only in the deleted pictures!" His finger was hovering over a man who was accepting the package from the FedEx delivery guy. It was hard to make out, because Alison had taken the picture from far away, but it might be possible to identify him with some work.

"So," Lassiter said, looking at the images. "It looks like someone didn't want that man linked to the warehouses. Let's find out who he is. Detective O'Hara, print these and get them to the department ASAP. I'm going to go call in to see about getting an ID on that FedEx truck." He'd recorded the license plate number in his notebook.

"Alright," I said. Lassiter ducked out under the caution tape.

"Meet you at the car in _five_," he said on the way out. Gus helped me print all six pictures from the trash on a special photo printer that was already hooked up. I turned around to see Hayden Carver had sunk down against the wall and put his head in his hands. My feelings of pity for him increased. I walked over slowly, holding the stack of photos in one hand. "Mr. Carver?" He looked up at me, his face blank but his eyes pained.

"Yes?" He asked in a voice that was surprisingly composed.

"It looks like you were right. We're almost sure that your girlfriend didn't commit suicide. I'm going to keep pursuing leads, but is there anything I can do to help you?" He shook his head mutely.

"No. Just keep doing what you're doing, I guess." He pushed himself back up to a standing position and shook my hand. "Thanks." I ducked back under the caution tape and into the hallway. As I left I heard him say to Shawn, "I'm sorry I doubted you, Mr. Spencer. Thank you for helping with the investigation."

"Oh, don't worry about it. Gus and I are happy to help." He and Gus followed me out of the room. "Plus we really need the money," he added to his partner once they were in the hall. They came to walk next to me.

"Speaking of which," Gus said with a significant look to Shawn. "I have to complete my route for my _real _job. I've already been delayed way too long. I'll be lucky if I get done today." Shawn patted Gus on the back.

"No worries, buddy. If you want, I'll help you deliver some on my motorcycle. We'd be twice as fast," he offered. Gus's eyes widened, then he shook his head firmly.

"No _way_, Shawn. After what happened last time?" I saw Shawn grin apologetically and suddenly felt curious.

"What happened last time?" I asked quietly as we passed more apartments. Gus winced and looked kind of embarrassed.

"Well, first of all, no one got any of the right prescriptions. And, also, Shawn kind of _scared_ some people... I lost customers." He shook his head. "And other things which will not be mentioned again."

"You just mentioned them," Shawn pointed out. Gus gave him a glare and Shawn put his hands up. "I'm just saying." Gus rolled his eyes.

"Fine, whatever." The phrase "I'm just saying" seemed to end most any argument with those two.

"Suffice it to say that he will never help me with my route again. _Ever."_ Gus stepped into the elevator and we followed him in.

"Okay..." We went down a couple floors to get back to the exit. Lassiter, as he'd promised, was leaning against his dark blue car. As we got back into our respective cars, Shawn and Gus planning to meet with us in an hour to regroup- Shawn was going to work on this case while Gus went on his 'route'.

_****_

"Where's Lassie?" Shawn asked me as he walked up to my desk an hour later, holding a small stack of CDs.

"He's still checking out the truck. Where's Gus?"

"He's still on his route."

"Oh." I tapped a few more words on my computer, put it to sleep, then looked up at Shawn. "What're the CDs for?"

"That's a long story," Shawn said, rolling his eyes.

"We've got time."

"Well, I was bored a couple days ago, so I made a bet with McNab that I had more Stevie Wonder albums than he did. Usually I'd go with more of his songs on iTunes, but sometimes you just have to do things the old-fashioned way. Anyway, I have them now." I couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

"You still listen to Stevie Wonder?" I asked. That guy stopped being popular a _long _time ago. Shawn shook his head and set down the stack of CDs on the corner of my desk, rubbing the back of his head with his newly-freed hand.

"Nah, I just have a bunch of his albums lying around still. I can't remember why. But don't dis Stevie Wonder, Jules. He was great back in the day." I looked at Shawn for a moment, then shrugged.

"Okay... So what do you get if you win?" I asked.

"He has to bake me a pineapple upside down cake. I'll have to recommend to him not to use an easy-bake oven, though. Apparently they aren't meant for serious bakers."

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway," Shawn said with a grin, "did you have any luck finding the guy in the pictures?"

"No, none," I said, discouraged. "I thought we would, but they couldn't ID him." I looked at his face then asked, "Why, did you?"

"Unfortunately not," he said. "The spirits are as clueless as anyone else right now."

"O'Hara, I think I found something!" Lassiter called, walking through the conference room door. "I finally ID'd the FedEx truck."

"Nice job, Lassie," Shawn commented. "Now we can ask why your chocolate bunnies never got delivered last Easter."

"What are you doing here, Spencer?" Lassiter asked, then shook his head. "Whatever. O'Hara, we're going to go talk to the kid who drives that truck lately - Jason Wright."

"Sounds like fun. I'll call Gus."

"You're _not_ coming," Lassiter said.

"_Au contraire, _Lassie. I think I am. My Psychic talents can be useful when it comes to lie-detecting, too." Lassiter clenched and unclenched his fist once, looked at Shawn contemplatively, then nodded sharply.

"Fine," he said, stalking away to the car. I followed him quickly as Shawn dialed Gus on his iPhone.

"Buddy! We might have a break through in the case. I don't care if you're supposed to go to the 'nice' part of your route now, you need to- No! No. No, Gus." He paused. "Fine. Just get your butt over to the station now. Bye."

"What was that about?" I asked Shawn as he caught up to me. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't ask."

"Okay, then. Will Gus be here soon enough?"

"He'll be here. He said he's close." Sure enough, as we walked out, Gus pulled up in his Echo, looking a bit annoyed. As Shawn got into the passenger seat, I could see they were arguing about something. I got into Lassiter's car and saw Shawn pat Gus on the shoulder consolingly. Gus rolled his eyes. In any case, we had our Psychic and his 'associate' with us to question Jason Wright. Hopefully this would get us a lead.

****

A/N: Please, don't put any spoilers for last week's episode in the comments... I've not seen it yet. I really need critique if you want to give it. I love my beta, but she's so nice she'd never tell me if I was hugely off on something. I hope you liked this! I will try to be quicker for next chapter.

Sparky


End file.
